


The Ring

by TheThirdTemptationOfParis



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Idiot John, Jealous John, M/M, Sherlock has a secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:49:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheThirdTemptationOfParis/pseuds/TheThirdTemptationOfParis
Summary: Sherlock has a ring on his finger. John is jealous.





	The Ring

It was meant to be a secret. A thing to wear in furtive moments. A fleeting hope. Just a simple gold band with _JHW_ inscripted on the inside. But Sherlock made a mistake. He forgot to take it off one morning when he was bent over his microscope checking samples. And John saw.

Sherlock could tell there was tension in the room as John made unnecessary noise while making tea. It was so out of character for the past few months that it startled Sherlock. He tried to remember what day it was, but found it was of no significance to either of them, “Must you make such a ruckus? I was focused.”

John whirled on him, eyes bright with what seemed to Sherlock to be unwarranted ire, “I don’t know. Must you wave your newly gained, _secret_ romance in front of my eyes?”

“I have no idea what you’re on about.”

“ _The ring_ Sherlock. You know. The one on your left hand?”

Sherlock looked down, and his stomach dropped. He gathered his hands in his lap, trying to hide something that was already out in the open, “It’s not—”

“Not what I think it is? Bullshit. Let me see it.” John held out his hand expectantly.

“What?” Sherlock asked, slightly appalled.

“The ring. Let me see it.” Sherlock looked down at his hand with slight trepidation. This could either go fantastic or terrible. Sherlock took the leap and took the ring off, handing it to John. He turned it over and read the inscription, more ire crossing his face. Terrible, then, “Who is _JHW_?”

Sherlock stared. This man, however bright he seemed to other people could be immensely thick in sight of his own jealousy. _You idiot man. You beautiful, idiot man._ “Really?”

“Really,” John said, still challenging.

Sherlock shook his head, now more fond than trepidatious, “You, you idiot man. Who else would it be?”

John’s eyes shifted into contemplation as he stared at the ring. He laid it flat in the palm of his own left hand which had been void of a ring for nearly a year, “But… why?”

“Why? Because you said _oh god yes_ when I asked if you wanted to see more danger. Because you shot a man for me after barely 24 hours of knowing me. Because you never really found me tiresome, though I was exasperating. Because of bottles of wine, curry, and cups of tea. Because the thrill of the chase and blood pumping through our veins. Because you’re the sane-insane one. Because you never really lost faith in me. Because you’ll always see me as brilliant.”

John continued to stare at the ring in his palm, “But why didn’t you ever say anything? Why keep us from this?”

“I never thought you actually wanted this. I thought everything I saw was just me projecting what I felt for you onto you. I thought since you always found a way around it…”

John placed the ring on the table and gently cupped Sherlock’s face, smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone, “You brilliantly clever, brilliantly gorgeous, brilliantly _stupid_ man. I stopped dating before the Fall for a reason. I thought once Moriarty was out of the picture we could finally have what it was clear we both wanted. But after, I just thought I had dreamt all of it.”

Sherlock’s hands came up to wrap around John’s wrists, “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying put the ring back on, you git. I’m saying we may have to wait a little while, but I know what I want. And God help me, but it’s you.” John leaned down and captured Sherlock’s lips, kissing him rather thoroughly. Then he pulled back and laughed lightly.

“What?” Sherlock asked, genuinely confused.

“Do you ever realize how backwards we are? I just sort of proposed to you before we were even in a relationship. That’s par for the course, though. We’ve never really done things by the book before.”

Sherlock smiled. John was right. He kissed him again, stomach fluttering with the unexpected beginning to what was the rest of their lives.


End file.
